He and I have been best friends since our days at the elementary campus. When I showed up one day in middle school with my face in stitches, swollen and red, and he asked me what the hell happened, I told him it was nobody’s business. He accepted it, made it his own personal crusade to tell everyone to Back the fuck off and stop asking. When he lost his mom sophomore year to cancer, I stayed by his side for weeks, playing mindless video games and talking about nothing to ease him. I know what death is, the grief it brings.

Chance’s jaw grinds. “I never thought I’d see her again.”

I stare down at my phone. “Yet here she is. Random factoid: did you know date rape drugs wear off pretty fast?”

Chance flinches. “Just stop, Knox. She wasn’t assaulted. She lied.”

“Mmmm,” I murmur.

Dad easily obtained the police report for Dane and me after her interview and everyone else’s at the party. I know about the bruises on her inner thighs. I know she doesn’t remember much. And those police interviews with the players? A fucking joke, or at least I think so, though it was a tense few days with my dad’s scrutiny squarely on us for the first time in a while. Dane was one of the guys dancing with her in the video, and then there was my predicament. Still, once our obligatory interview with the cops was over, Dad flew us to LA for a U2 concert as if nothing had happened.

Dane may have told me to stop staring, but even he has her in his sights, a low, wary look in his gaze.

She certainly draws the eye.

“Guess it doesn’t matter,” I say to Chance. “Nobody believes some scholarship girl.” I study my nails.

His reply is lost when Brooklyn appears next to Chance, batting her lashes up at him as she curls her fingers around his upper arm. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs, sending a scathing glance back at Ava. “You okay?”

He gives her a nod. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Brooklyn smiles at him and wanders off to slide in next to Jolena, and I watch them huddle together for a moment then approach Ava.

How will she handle it?

Will she stay at Camden when life gets tough?

Because it will.

It’s going to be fucking bad for her—

Chance snaps his fingers in my face, and I realize I’d forgotten about him. His eyes have followed mine to the girls several feet away. “You’re a dick. Stay away from her,” he finally says.

I laugh.

We all know he doesn’t mean Brooklyn.

“Both of you shut up. We’re all dicks. We’re Sharks,” Dane says just as the bell rings.

Sharks. I don’t know where the name came from, this “club” we’re in, but it’s been around for years. Our dad was one. Chance’s too. We stick together. Mostly it’s jocks from the various sports teams, born to the richest parents. We don’t have a ceremony with hooded cloaks and candles and hazing. Either you’re part of the inner circle or you’re not.

We straighten, pick up our backpacks, and head down the hall, cutting through the less fortunate, making our way to class.

Yet…

I can’t stop my eyes from lingering on Ava’s back as she struggles with the combination on her lock. Her head is tilted down, the strange dark hair draped on either side, exposing the graceful arch of her neck taut with tension. The skin there is creamy and perfect.

She walked in here like she owns the place, but she doesn’t.

I do.

Still…

The very air around her seems lit with an aura of expectancy.

Emotion, something unnamed, rare and beautiful, brushes down my spine.

I tense.

Rein it in.

4

I’m so freaking late, practically running when I dash into my History of Film class. The teacher, Mrs. White, is an older lady with gray curly hair and small wire-rimmed glasses. She’s wearing a baggy dress with huge pockets on the sides and old sandals. Rather absentminded and a bit quirky, she has a rep as a fun teacher. She lifts her head when I come to a stop, my shoes squeaking on the slick tile. Everyone already has a seat, and it’s clear from the seating chart on the whiteboard that she doesn’t have my name down. Great. That’s what last-minute registration gets me. It’s going to be like this all day, me showing up and not being on the roll.

She stops talking, a surprised look on her face as she motions me forward. Everyone cranes their neck to get a look at me as I walk up to her desk, maneuvering through the small desk tables, each one seating two students. Dang, I’m going to have to actually sit next to someone. I send a prayer up that it’s not one of the Sharks, hoping for just a regular student like me. I pass by Piper, whose eyes are wide. I grimace when I see she’s been placed next to Dane. She sticks out her tongue at me and rolls her eyes so hard it actually looks painful, and I bite back a grin.

“Sorry I’m late, Mrs. White. It won’t happen again.”

“Snitch,” a male voice coughs out, and her gaze goes behind me, searching the class for the person who did it.

“That’s enough,” she says firmly then glances at me. “It’s fine, Ava. First day we give some leeway.” She messes with some papers on her podium, shuffling them around, her finger going down a list. “I don’t have you on my roll, and honestly this class is so popular with juniors and seniors, almost every seat is filled.”

“I registered late. Sorry.” I keep my spine straight. “Just put me in a chair in the back. I don’t even need a table.” Nervously, I tug at my skirt.

A deep male voice comes from my left. “I have an empty seat, Mrs. White. Liam dropped.”

Her head rises, and I follow her gaze, my gut churning, recognizing that voice.

My eyes find Knox Grayson’s. Again, there’s no expression on his face, just that superior, disdainful smile.

Mrs. White’s eyebrows hit the roof, and I guess she’s just as surprised as I am that one of the Sharks has offered to let me sit with him.

Games.

Fucking games.

I tear my eyes off Knox’s face.

“I’d prefer the seat in the back,” I tell Mrs. White quietly, leaning in, but unfortunately my words must carry because someone in the front giggles, and I hear the silky voice of Jolena.

“Wow, a girl who doesn’t want to be next to Knox—priceless.” Her laughter tinkles.

The teacher puts her elbows on the podium and leans in until our faces are close and there’s no chance anyone will hear. “I’m good with whatever you want. I can put you in the back, but honestly, it’s only going to isolate you from everyone. I don’t want that, and in the end, you may miss some things if you can’t see the overhead. You could take the seat up front with Knox, and if you have any issues at any time, come to me and I’ll take care of it.” Her voice is soft, pity dripping like acid.

Pity. Please.

I want justice.

Not likely. They have money. They own this town.

Miss Harris, is it possible you consented to sex? Your behavior at the party was, well…

She spreads her hands. “It’s up to you though, Ava. Whichever you want.”

Sit in the back or sit next to the head Shark?

My throat tightens as I ponder my options, but I already know what I need to do: establish myself as fearless, just like inmates do when they walk into a prison.